Of Old Friends and Surfboards: Rewrite
by EmpressOfEvilBunnies
Summary: When the Akatsuki have to move to Florida, they need a place to stay. What better place than an old friend's of Kisame's? Rewrite of the original OOFAS.
1. Of Complications and Disorders

So, I've decided that a re-write would be infinitely less confusing then gradually updating the chapters. Of course, the original will never be deleted; it symbolizes a golden medal to me. OOFAS was a really big hit, and my first one at that. Much work was put into this, and laugh all you want, but I spent almost thirty five minutes desperately trying to piece together all of the random excerpts I had jotted down in sudden bursts of inspiration. I had been writing this and many other works in Chemistry, Arabic and Geography notebooks, two of the numerous sketchbooks I keep on hand for sketches and this exact purpose, and even on the back of exams. I'm lucky my teachers didn't subtract from my grade for filling my test paper with un-related topics.

Anyways, I was planning to finish at least the first seven chapters until submitting anything, but that would've taken until July.

And because you've been waiting for way too long.

**Standard disclaimer applied**.

p.s don't shoot me if you don't like it. i've improved greatly in my writing, and i'm not going to let your personal preferences hold me back.

* * *

><p>Kakuzu quickly made his way down the flight of stairs, subconsciously ducking under a random bump in the wall that he had fallen victim to one too many times, as bright green eyes scanning the floor he now occupied. Where was that foul-mouthed nuisance when he needed him? The large man sighed, suddenly feeling older than what he really was. A figure made itself known as it exited from the basement. Strong shoulders, impressively large biceps, and an intimidating eight-pack accompanied the slightly blue tint of skin that was Kisame's. A light sheen of sweat covered his bare torso and forehead.<p>

"Have you had the displeasure of seeing Hidan recently?" Kakuzu's gruff voice questioned. Kisame slowly shook his head no, still comfortably creeping towards the flight of stairs the older man had just occupied, most likely heading towards the showers.

"But, y'know, I heard him yellin' like a bitch about needin' some food. Prob'ly went out to get some." A large hand ruffled the thick, blue locks on his head in thought. Kisame sighed, then jogged up the stairs. He really reeked. His abnormally sharp ears caught Kakuzu's feet scuffling around, imaginably deciding whether or not to go after the punk. Suddenly, Kakuzu's voice could be heard—he was calling him, it seemed.

"Yeah?" It was silent for a while, then Kakuzu spoke again.

"Pein has something you might want to know about." And with that, he was gone out the door. Kisame decided to wash up, get dressed, then find out whatever it was that leader wanted with him.

33B

The ginger cleared his throat, suddenly needing an endless nap that his pride and profession won't allow, and stared straight at one of his most loyal members—not to mention valuable.

"No doubt you were listening thoroughly during the meeting?"

Said valuable member merely nodded once gently, it was more of an assurance than an answer, really. Last meeting's discussion replayed in his head, wondering how that had to do with the fact that he was in Pein's office.

"Well, I've just received news—I am still unsure whether it is good or bad, but news nonetheless," Kisame's eyes sparked at the idea of being one of the first to be updated on something, and he had a hunch it was something important. The leader gave him a short pause to take it in before continuing stoically, "I've received news not a day ago that they've appointed quite a number of men down south. It is anticipated that there is a gathering planned, and we're not invited." This _was_ shocking news, after all. It was a dead man's wish to establish an event and not extend an invitation to the Akatsuki—they rarely showed, yes, but it was the principle of the thing. Respect. Obedience. _Fear._

Kisame pondered at the prospect of a gang intentionally riling the Akatsuki—it sounded pretty suicidal. The large man smirked to himself, _more like homicidal in my case_. He was pulled out of his trance by Pein's deep intake of breath.

"With this unsettling information, I will act upon the benefit of the Akatsuki; we will not be fooled. If there is going to be a gathering, then so be it. We will be there, however, whether they like it or not. And so, I'm planning on moving us all into the vicinity their men were reported to be in."

Pein folded his hands together on the magnificent desk before him, "We'll be moving south for the summer."

Kisame bit the inside of his cheek, trying not to childishly get his hopes up. He leaned back in the leather chair, playing it cool. "How far down south?" he inquired. Pein's lips quirked up the tiniest bit in amusement.

"Yes," he confirmed the Shark's silent suspicion, "the assholes are near Miami beach, as we will be. I was hoping that—in reaction to hearing this news—you'd offer your old house for us to live in comfortably." Kisame had been on the verge of smiling all up until the last statement. He slightly frowned and sighed heavily with his eyes closed, attempting to prepare himself for the complication that had just presented itself.

"Leader, I sold my place three months into my stay in New York; I needed the money to pay rent." The pierced young man seemed displeased, his thin ginger eyebrows closing in on each other in deep thought. Soon, a low growl of frustration was released. Pein clarified the complication of this disadvantage, "I can't send eight gang members down to Florida for the entire summer _in a hotel_. No doubt you see the lack of logic—and how suspicious it would prove to be."

Kisame could only agree but kept quiet; any words other than that of a logical solution would have no meaning.

33B

((Ping!))

Many smacks and pops followed that initial hit. A solid yellow ball gradually inched towards a pocket before obediently falling in.

Deidara smirked devilishly, his hip against the table and a pool stick between his tattooed fingers. Gorgeously thick blond locks cascaded down his neck to his shoulder blades, a knot unique only to him holding less than a fourth of his hair up and long bangs covering the left of his face.

The other figure across from him tsked lightly before pushing himself off the wall he was lounging against and soundlessly sauntered to the wooden cue awaiting him, taking it into his hands expertly. Crimson strands of hair rustled quietly against his forehead, but never getting in the way of his auburn eyes, as he leaned down to calculate his shot. Pulling the light wood in his hand back, he suddenly pushed it into the pure white cue ball, watching smugly as a striped seven bounced off the velvet curb of the table and astonishingly fall right into a pocket on the other side.

Deidara grimaced, "Damn you, Sasori, yeah. How'd you get so damn good, yeah?"

"That's what she said!" Hidan hollered, his rumbling laugh shaking the walls of the dim room as he entered politely. Deidara couldn't help but chuckle along with the Jashinist.

Hidan sidled up to the blond, pressing his wider stature into Deidara's mockingly. He leaned his head on Deidara's shoulder and raised a silver eyebrow, "C'mon, bitch, you know what to fuckin' say. Here, I'll remind your shit-for-brains: Where?"

Deidara's smirk only widened and tilted his head slightly to touch his psycho for a friend's gelled back hair as he chortled, "In bed, yeah."

Hidan howled with obviously exaggerated laughter once more, shoving Deidara away playfully. He seemed extremely happy, and surprisingly not in that scary way. _Probably just got laid_, Deidara reasoned.

"Oh, to be young again," Sasori commented sarcastically, referring to the undying joke the two fools have shared since middle school.

The Jashinist's shit-eating grin quickly evolved into a tight line and his breathtaking eyes became glaring slits of icy amethyst. Sasori seemed unfazed, but it wasn't a secret that the pasty-skinned priest was dangerous, and so only if you looked closely would you notice the straightening of the red-head's back or the shifting of his footing.

It was a silent staring game for some time until Deidara cleared his throat, intentionally occupying their attention. Hidan got the message and calmly relaxed himself by rolling his shoulders and sliding his tongue along the bottom of his teeth. He then turned to look at Sasori, smirking lightly, "I'm still fucking young, seriously."

Sasori could only roll his eyes in return.

33B

Serenity.

Relaxation.

Quiet.

Peace.

**Sleep**.

He was asleep, and in every meaning of the word tranquil. Burning eyes finally at rest, receiving the solatium they positively deserved. The black abyss that was unconsciousness was nothing but a reassurance, calming his mind and body. Strong lungs sucked in the pure gusts of wonderfully still air, cleansing his soul._ It is a blessing_, his subconscious concluded, _to be asleep_. Work, headaches, stress, **shit**; all of it—it was all a curse. He was cursed, and _fuck_ if whoever bestowed it upon him didn't do one hell of a job. His lean but strong body decided that it had rested enough, and his mind was brought forth, his eyelids opening to reveal the darkness of unconsciousness, reminding himself and everyone else just what it was he wanted more than anything in life:

Death.

An eternal sleep, like the wrapped mummies.

Itachi almost moaned at the thought. He sighed gently, his hot breath barely making a sound; death wasn't an option. Life may be tiring, but everything comes at a price. He could only hope that whatever it was he was working endlessly for proved worth it.

Loose blackstrands rustled against the pillow as he tilted his head to stare silently at the bright, red numbers of his digital clock.

4:58

Deciding not to waste anymore time, he stealthily climbed out of bed, his feet quietly padding towards the bedroom door. Opening and closing the slab of wood behind him, the aristocratic man made his way towards the shared bathroom of the third floor. Silently undressing, he tossed the flannel gray pants and soft, black, short sleeved shirt into the hamper, ignoring Hidan's atrocious manner of leaving everything messily on the tile floor. In nothing but his boxers, the raven-haired man reached out to turn on the shower before removing his underwear and slipping in.

The water beat down on his shoulders and back as he submerged his thoughts into what his partner had informed him of last night. Florida had gangs, but they weren't any of the Akatsuki's business—but what does that piece of shit want with Florida? _He couldn't tan even if he burned under the Miami heat_, Itachi inwardly smirked at what Kisame had implied.

Lathering and rinsing his hair absently, the young Uchiha turned the water off, stepped out, and wrapped his lower half in a towel. Beads of water dripped off the tips of his hair and onto his chiseled chest and down his straight back, and the small towel didn't leave much for the imagination.

As he walked back to his room, locking the door behind him, he couldn't help but sigh wearily, mentally checking off things he would pack for the trip south.

33B

After getting dressed and making himself presentable, the young man waited in the kitchen with a piping hot mug of coffee. Sharp ears caught the unbelievably light footfalls of one Sasori Akasuna as he comfortably entered the kitchen about half an hour later. Slowly but surely, more and more delinquents took place in the kitchen. By eight o'clock, all of the current inhabitants of the house were gathered not-so-quietly on and around the island with a few of them bickering good-heartedly. The front door opened and closed heavily, the loud slam effectively silencing them.

Pein walked in, his features already portraying frustration at this hour of the morning. Sighing loudly, he sat in his chair, gulped down the disgustingly cold coffee Deidara handed him, and began.

33B

After educating the group of the current troubles, everyone unconsciously turned to Kisame, as if he had the answer merely because he was from Miami. Said blue man took in a deep breath, his hands rubbing circles into his temples as a poor attempt at relaxing himself, despite the stress he was currently in.

He did, in fact, have a plausible solution to all of this hubbub, but it wasn't as easy as you'd think. The "solution" not only needed Pein's approval, but a certain other person's agreement as well. And the fact that the Akatsuki, an infamous illegal gang of the grungy alley-ways of New York, was to be living in the home of someone who wasn't pledged to Pein nor to the gang was not only going to arouse suspicion but it would be increasingly dangerous for the person.

And, had it been anyone else whose life were to be put on the line, Kisame really wouldn't have cared. But this was someone special, and the only thing that stopped him from keeping this "solution" to himself was the permanent red cloud between his left ring and middle fingers, the ring on the left ring finger and the loyalty he felt for his brothers. His beady black eyes roamed over Hidan's rakish morning looks, and Deidara's tired expression. He saw those two as his younger brothers, and love them he did. As he did the rest of them.

But then a different face formed in his mind, with a bright smile from his dearest memories and twinkling eyes that tugged at his heart.

It was nothing if not a difficult decision.

But when push came to shove, Kisame knew his attachments and emotions paled in comparison to his duty to the Akatsuki. He had taken a pledge and had been marked.

And so he knew what he had to do.

"I've been doing a lot of thinking. And it's been half a decade from the last time I've been in Miami, so I've had to go over a lot of options," here, he braced himself inwardly, and mentally sent millions upon millions of sincere, heart-broken apologies to a particular college freshman, "and I've gotten us a potential place to stay in."

Pein didn't seem surprised, in fact he seemed a bit smug. Probably complimenting himself. The majority of the Akatsuki's ears perked up with curiosity sparkling in their eyes.

"An old friend of mine has this three bed-room house near the beach. It's only twelve miles or so away from the place Pein said _they_ are staying."

Pein seemed interested, and Kisame wasn't sure if this was a good thing.

"An old friend?" oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. He was _angry_.

Had he been a lesser man, the Hoshigaki might've cringed at the sight of the menacingly calm Akatsuki leader. Kisame filled his lungs with tense air as he wracked his brain for a way to piece his words together without getting his ass whooped.

Exhaling slowly, he brushed off the urge to sneeze and nodded.

"Yeah. We were friends long before high school and the Akatsuki. And before you start getting mad, let me just tell you that we haven't spoken in three years. My friend thinks I'm here for college." Kisame prayed to the Heavens above that he wouldn't be dead within the hour.

Pein seemed to be mulling it all over in his head, his silver eyes hardening as his brows pulled together. The blue-skinned man did his best not to punch something as he usually did when he was nervous.

Seconds that felt like hours were silent except for the soft sips of coffee and the occasional rustle of cloth as someone altered their position.

"I would like to speak to this..._friend_."

Kisame had expected as much, really,but he was hoping that he wouldn't have to do it like this. It wasn't like the Hoshigaki wasn't going to call, but he wasn't planning on it being in from of all of them.

Too late now, though, he concluded miserably.

"Sure, I guess. I have the number," and with that he pulled out his phone, tap-tap-tapping through his contacts list.

Kisame called and lay the phone on the counter after turning on the speaker.

It rang four times before someone answered.

"Listen, you _fuckwad_. I have a fucking crow-bar and great fucking skills to go with it. Call me _one more fucking time_ and I'll track you down and beat you so hard that your motherfucking **kidneys** will come shooting out of your eye-sockets while I sing to caramelldansen."

If Kisame could blush, he'd be purple in embarrassment. Despite his amused audience, however, he played it cool.

"Oh really? And who do you think taught you that?"

"...Oh _shit_."

Kisame chuckled; he loved it when he scared the shit out of her.

_33B_

So? What do you think, my lovelies? If you have any questions, feel free to ask. And if you'd like to flame, go on ahead; at least I know that it was good enough for you to have read it in the first place. ;)

If you haven't noticed, I've made them older.  
>This was for two reasons:<br>(a) I won't have to burden myself and all of you with the tiresome, unnecessary complications of high school and its gag-inducing drama.  
>(b) At the ages I've put them in, we can trust the story to harbor less unexplainable dark moments and more <em> logical <em>angst-y moments. The characters have been given the time pre-story to mature and develop their characters. I have no concern for whiny, hormonal mongrels as my main stars. This may sound ridiculous; _it's a story, why bother with such ** meaningless** details?_ Well, I care about things like this. I want to excel as a writer. I want this to be as realistic as possible, because I want my readers to laugh and cry with me. I want to _make your day_.

And I guess I just wanted hot, older guys.


	2. Of Hesitance and Answers

Well, it's a thousand words less, but I wouldn't complain if I were you. My family's going through this nervous breakdown worrying over my recently assaulted/arrested cousin, so don't expect anything before mid-March; I'm on edge with my nerves because we have no idea if he's going to be okay. But, until the next chapter, enjoy this simple piece. Notice the analyzation done by our characters; I've decided to help you guys out a bit by including the perspectives and observations of most of the characters so you won't have to add it all up together in your head. Of course, I won't be uncovering everything, but some things are best to be out of the way.

**Standard disclaimer applied**.

p.s i'm too lazy to go over it for the twentieth time, so be a darling and point out anything document manager decided to mess up.

* * *

><p>Deidara was the type of person to be easily amused or entertained; sometimes he laughed at jokes that weren't even funny. So, when he noticed how undeniably <em>nervous<em> Kisame seemed as he confronted Pein, he couldn't help but smirk. Deidara wasn't _completely_ heartless, and so he sympathized with the large, blue-haired man. But Deidara also grew up with a person like Hidan, so it was a fairly simple feat to be sadistically humored by Kisame's uncomfortable state.

Nothing—_nothing—_however, could amount to his shocked amusement when this "old friend" revealed to have been recently prank-called, and they weren't too happy about it either, if the kidney-shooting-out-of-his-eye sockets part was anything to go by. But as the milliseconds ticked by, Deidara—and every other present Akatsuki—realized that the voice on the phone was suspiciously soft and higher in pitch that that of an average male.

Either this guy had a sissy voice, or Kisame Hoshigaki had just called a **girl**.

Now, they weren't isolated, desperate teens anymore. Women came and went, and some of the members actually have had or still had relationships. But Kisame had said "old friend". And if the smile on the man's face was anything to go by, this was a very _close_ "old friend". Kisame had also dropped in that he had lied to this particular "close old friend". Did that imply he didn't want this "close old friend" to know of his illegal state of being? That makes this "close old friend" even _closer_.

Did Deidara forget to mention it's a _girl?_

The more time that passed, the more the blonde artist pieced thoughts together, and so the more said blonde artist began to think _holy shit Kisame's got a crush._

But that wasn't right...it was strange. He had never imagined what kind of person Kisame could be if he wasn't the harsh and brutal hit-man of the Akatsuki, and now they were all watching one of the most terrifying menaces of the under-ground quite literally **purr** like a domestic kitten merely at the sound of a "very close old friend"'s voice who just so happens to be a girl.

Deidara regretted not having a camera at hand. However his stroke of genius was interrupted by the continuation of the phone call.

"Um, hello?"

33B

"How are you, shorty?" Kisame questioned, a significantly gentle upturn of his lips present as he stared at a random point of the wall.

The girl on the phone cleared her throat before hesitantly asking, "Who is this?" Kisame's lips lifted a bit more in amusement as he took on a mocking tone of hurt.

"You don't recognize my voice, cupcake?"

There was a short silence save for the distant, muffled noises on the other side of the line.

The girl was suddenly angry, "Excuse me? Were you born with a brain defect? I think I just made it clear that **No**, **I do not recognize your voice**. Now tell me who you are and what you want; I'm busy."

"Easy, Babe. It's Kisame." Honestly, Kisame knew there was no way she didn't know itwas him. Maybe she thought someone was pulling her leg. Now that he had properly introduced himself, however, she was more than likely to be thrilled.

"Who? Kisame? Sorry, I don't make a habit of remembering the names of people that leave me in the dust."

…

"..._burn~" _Hidan chorused with a nasty smirk on his face. Kisame recovered from the shock and raw humiliation fast enough to send the priest an unmerciful glare and a rude gesture.

"Aw, Sakura, c'mon. Don't be like that; I've been busy," he tried crooning.

"Well, what do you know? I'm busy _right now_. Any particular reason as to why I'm wasting my time on the phone instead of making money?" As if on cue, a loud call of "Sakura" sounded through the girl's side of the line.

"Hold on," Sakura breathed exasperatedly before she seemed to have covered the phone with cloth.

33B

"Sakura!"

"Yes?"

"Haruno, you're not on break! Table five has been waiting!" Shit, this guy was annoying.

"I've got a phone call—"

"That means nothing!"

"I'm the one that prepared _and_ served for two hours until Sai showed up. The least you can do is give me this one, measly call."

"...you've got five minutes."

The young pinkette huffed, shifting her weight to her other mostly bare leg as she supported her top half on the cafe's kitchen counter with her elbows propping her up. The thin, white sleeves of her button-up were messily rolled up, resting above her elbows. Above the white, cotton shirt was a black vest matching the black tulle skirt that ended just two inches above her knees.

Below her elbows rested a wrinkled version of her cream colored apron with the name of the cafe emblazoned on the bottom, which was where she pulled her phone out from to her ear.

"Sorry about that. Anyways, have you come up with a good reason as to why I'm even hearing you out?" Sakura asked apathetically. As she spoke, her small, slender hand reached up to pull a defiant tendril of pink hair out of her face and behind a clip holding the rest of her hair in a messy, unprofessional bun.

Sakura heard Kisame falter the tiniest bit, something she didn't have to necessarily see to notice. He took in a deep breath before speaking solemnly, "I actually have quite the favor to ask of you, kitten. I know it's been quite some time, and I know it's going to sound like a lot, but I'm asking you not to make me beg."

Rustling noises were heard on her side of the line before a hesitant, "I'm listening."

"A few friends of mine and myself are planning on spending summer vacation in Miami. Problem is, it's too expensive to pay rent for hotel rooms or apartments on top of food expenses and whatnot. Immediately, I thought of you and your big, generous heart—"

"_Pffft."_

"—and the just as big house you're staying in all alone. So, Sakura, how about some company this summer?"

33B

If you asked Hidan, he'd tell you that he hasn't had this much non-violent fun since that time a month ago when Itachi got high and wobbled around the house in bright purple lipstick singing "Love You Like a Love Song".

The bitch on the phone was absolutely hilarious, and he found himself hoping she'd agree to them living with her. Absently, Hidan wondered why Kisame hadn't shared this little spit-fire with them before.

…

_On second thought_, the Jashinist decided, _I would've kept her to myself, too._

But honestly, Hidan now really wanted to know how she looked; if she proved to be easy on the eyes, she'd probably make a great Jashinist. Sure, he didn't even know her yet, but it wouldn't be the first time Hidan showed interest in someone he hadn't officially met.

For the most part, she had been aggressive and cold with just the right amount of spunk. But then she had taken a softer, more hesitant tone once Kisame became a bit more serious. And as ignorant Hidan seemed, he was far from being dumb.

In his opinion, this girl was hurt by Kisame's sudden abandonment of her, thus the strong front. That piqued not only the silver-haired nutcase of Akatsuki, but also the attention of the rest of the men huddled around the iPhone 4.

Hidan looked over to Kakuzu who was across the counter from him and analyzed the large man's expression. Kakuzu usually had his face stuck in a grimace, but he was now relaxed and—dare he say it—_curious_. Really, if she could catch Kakuzu's eye without wearing nothing but hundred dollar bills covering her most modest parts, she could probably rule the world. Or something along those lines.

The girl sucked in a deep breath before releasing it.

"Oh, I don't really—um, actually, I—" Sakura stumbled over her words. More rustling noises were heard, and someone was laughing loudly in the distance

"Hold on—Sai! What in the blazing hells are you _doing_?"

"I'm preparing a smoothie, hag."

Sakura allowed a heavy sigh to escape her, "that much is obvious, dimwit. It's not _what _you're doing; it's _how _you're doing it—that's what she said," she added as a mumble at the end.

"It seems to be a good way to make a drink to me. Maybe your ugly wrinkles are hindering your vision, you old witch." It seemed to have been said by a robot. The voice was cool, calm, and absolutely unemotional.

"I should kick you. And I _will_. Sai, you can **not** pour a smoothie in a previously used cup."

"But it had the same kind of drink in it left."

"Nevertheless, it's unprofessional and down-right _nasty_. We'd get shut down by the Health Department."

"Who said anyone's got to know?"

"..."

"..."

"Just don't do it, Sai. Here, take this." Glass clinked together as she handed him a large smoothie cup.

"Fine, you grumpy gnome."

Sakura sighed heartily, "not everyone can be awkwardly tall, Sai. Now, please, get the fuck out of my face."

"Whatever you say, ugly."

"Hey. Look, Kisame I—well, it just...I don't see anything wrong with it, I guess," she said in a defeated tone. "But, how many of you are there?"

Kisame was now smiling heartily, obviously relieved, "together they're ten of us. But I doubt all of us would be staying the entire summer. A few have some school stuff to attend to, so maybe only seven at a time."

"Okay, okay...I—look, I've got to go. But, just...when will you guys get here?"

"No less than a week until we board the plane."

"Alright then. It's a done deal."

"Great, thanks a bunch, babe."

"Yeah, yeah. Man, I've got to go."

"That's fine. I'll call you later, okay?"

"Okay, _fine_ but really, I have to go. Bye!"

"Bye."

_Click_.

Kisame tapped End Call before looking up at Pein, trying to avoid the stares of the rest of the Akatsuki.

And, as expected, Pein was smirking like the mad man he was.

_33B_

As always, questions are welcome and will more than likely be answered, and comments are _more_ than welcome.

I hope that you all enjoyed the second chapter! lessthanthree


	3. Of Paranoia and Glimmering Rings

Sakura drummed her fingers on the stainless steel counter of the cafe's kitchen, her phone safely in one of the many pockets of her apron. Sai had just left to serve the smoothie. That boy was going to be the end of her... She hastily tied the apron around her waist and set off to a dirty table to wipe it clean. As she scrubbed it with the rag in her hand, her mind wandered off to what she had just agreed too.

Absently, she wondered if she had done something incredibly stupid. Of course, welcoming Kisame into her house was nothing if not one of the best things that has happened to her in the past month or two. She couldn't overlook the fact that he had technically abandoned her, but, similarly, she couldn't over look the years they had spent as best friends. She had missed him dearly, and was quite enthusiastic to see him again—for the better part of the summer, no less—despite the up-and-leave-without-doing-a-damn-thing-to-keep-in-touch stunt he had pulled not too long ago. But Sakura knew how to forgive, even if she wasn't all that great at it. Though, it was the rest of his "friends" that she was skeptical about.

Sakura was a social girl most of the time; she enjoyed people's company and making new friends. But she had never ventured outside the state of Florida before, and New York seemed to be a scary place. She didn't know who these people were or what they were capable of. What if they were desperate two-timers and ended up robbing her? Or worse—raping her?

Wait, what was she thinking? She shook her head before scrubbing harder at a particularly stubborn stain. If Kisame was friends with these people, then they've got to be an OK crowd. And the Kisame she had grown up with—and this one, as well, if the pet names he was determined to use were anything to go by—would _never _put her in harm's way, right? If he was bringing them to live with her, then he must trust them wholly. And if Kisame trusted them, then so did she.

Content with her decision for now, the pinkette straightened herself from the leaning position she had been in and moved to the kitchen, her two-inch heels clicking softly in comparison to the loud badinage and raillery of the filled cafe. She tossed the rag aside swiftly and washed her hands. The bell at the entrance jingled merrily as a group of young girls entered and took a seat at one of her tables. Sakura pulled the tie out of her hair, allowing the choppy, pink locks to brush the bottom of her jaw. Her tiny hands swept through the tresses so as to style them before walking to the girls. After taking their orders and serving them, she rushed to the next table, which consisted of an older, more mature, couple. The next few hours continued in a similar fashion.

33B

"I'm beat, man. I'm so tired," Sakura moaned as she checked the clock on the wall. It was 10:45. She had been working full-time since eight this morning.

"Didn't you have an hour break at four?" Sai questioned, his piercing pools of ink for eyes not leaving the notebook he was filling in with the profit made today as he spoke.

"Yeah, but I used it to have lunch with Neji."

Sai's fingers continued tapping the calculator, "I didn't know you've been going on dates, hag."

If she weren't so tired, she would've run him over with an ice-cream truck. "I am _not _dating anyone! We're just friends."

"Would he agree?"

Sakura began to sputter, at a loss for words. Her ears began to burn as they flushed pink, "O-of course! I mean—I mean...we're _just friends_." She finally hissed, embarrassed at being cornered into an awkward situation.

There was a short pause before either of them spoke again.

"You should stop friend-zoning every guy you meet upon sight, Sakura."

"...What's that supposed to mean, Sai?"

"It means what it means," he sighed. "It's eleven. Our shifts are over," he tossed her the keys and slapped the book shut before shoving it into a drawer, "it's your turn to lock up. Goodnight, Sakura."

With that he slipped on his light jacket and stepped out of the cafe, leaving a confused Sakura to stare speechlessly as he climbed into his car and sped off. Once he had disappeared into the night, she stacked all the chairs up onto the tables, checked the back door, made sure the kitchen was in order, and left after locking the front door.

Shoving the keys into the pocket of her hoodie, she began the long trek home, her combat boots making the only noise as she mulled over what Sai had said.

That night, Sakura tossed and turned in bed. She had dismissed Sai's uncharacteristic comment already, convincing herself that he had just been stressed and tired, as was she. It was understandable; there were more customers than usual, and so they were a bit moodier than usual.

What _was _bothering her though, was Kisame. Him and his bunch of friends were moving in for the summer. Her worries—despite her attempt at dousing them that morning—were scaring sleep away. And she wasn't very happy about that. The troubled pinkette curled into a semi-fetal position, wrapping her arms around her bare legs as her mind raced with various thoughts.

Sakura was naturally paranoid person, but she usually knew what it was that she was afraid of. The last time she had been uneasy and bothered was...well, over nothing, really, was in the third grade.

But that was completely different. She could remember her younger self, frustrated by her fear of what seemed to be, literally, _nothing_, convinced that there was a foreboding presence wafting around her—particularly in school. A few days later she found out that a fellow classmate had been planning on beating her up, but they had mysteriously chickened out at the last second.

However Sakura Haruno was an eighteen-year-old college freshman, she was now more than capable of taking care of herself.

So what in God's name was big enough to have her scared out of her wits _now_?

33B

A low, animal-like growl vibrated through his chest, echoing off the walls of his room. It was nearing two o'clock in the morning, but he couldn't find sleep. His need to create was unfulfilled, and it would haunt him until he did something about it. Throwing yet another sculpture aside in frustration, he damned every, and any, God that had thought it funny to steal his muse from him. He had tried music, but that had only succeeded in intensifying his bloody headache. It was as if a horde of banshees had gathered in his head, then decided to see who could scream the loudest, and who could keep it up for the longest amount of time possible.

Deidara reached up to rub his eyes and the bags beneath them. Minutes continued to tick by but the blonde remained motionless in his position, sitting on the edge of his bed, elbows balanced on his knees and he hid his tired face behind his artistic hands.

Suddenly, he sighed through his nose and pulled on the gray skinnies and the blue button-up he had been wearing earlier that day- or the day before, depending on how you looked at it. Deidara felt like a zombie as he stuffed his sock covered feet into a pair of black dress shoes.

The door to his room opened and closed, barely making a sound. Looking at the other doors up and down the hallway, he silently made a decision and advanced towards a particular door that was sporting quite a few splinters and numerous unidentifiable stains. He'd rather a calm night in a bar with Sasori, but the fellow artist would turn him into a baboon-like version of Pinocchio if he woke him at such an ungodly hour, so booming music and scantily dressed girls it was.

Knocking on the door (read: smashing his fist into what was left of the slab of wood), Deidara hoped to God the idiot was even there. Soon enough, the door swung back to reveal a more than half-naked Hidan, with tousled hair and a tired expression. Upon realizing it was none other than his blonde friend, he eyed him suspiciously.

"Bitch, the honeymoon ain't till we get fucking tickets to Maldives, remember?"

Deidara rolled his eyes, "Get dressed, asshole. We're going out." The Jashinist didn't question him; he merely began pulling on random articles of clothing that were messily flung over the entire expanse of the carpeted floor.

"Anyways," Deidara smirked, "I thought we agreed on Barbados instead."

33B

"So, what's up?" Hidan's Chevy corvette Zr1 was practically surfing over neighboring cars like they were smooth waves. His hand was holding the wheel in what seemed to be a gentle caress while the other hand was streaming through his silver hair. The blonde artist in the passenger seat was slouching in his chair, pearly teeth biting the inside of his cheek in thought.

"I'm going crazy, yeah," he groaned. "I feel like shit, man."

"Yeah, I fuckin' guessed that fuckin' much."

Deidara glared half-heartedly at his friend, "then why bother asking, shit-bucket?"

"Watch it, fuckwad. I'm trying to find out _why _you're so fuckin' messed up, seriously."

It was silent as the red corvette shot down the busy streets they had memorized by heart. The stores and lights gradually decreased in number as they continued to the not-so-nice part of the city. The car and the street beneath it began to vibrate in time with the erratic beat of the clubs that littered the area.

Hidan pulled over next to a small group of young men in matching vests. A ginger with a lanky stature walked over to the driver's side as the two men emerged from the expensive vehicle. The Jashinist forced the keys into the teen's hand, making sure the boy got an eyeful of the Japanese kanji for "three" engraved into his ring.

Deidara and the pasty-skinned priest continued on foot towards a medium sized building made of large dark bricks and a flickering neon sign that said "Vick's" in a bright yellow. All sound ceased as they entered, but they either didn't care, that, or were used to it—possibly both—and so proceeded their slow swagger to the occupied bar.

Deidara drummed his fingers against the wood counter-top. People returned to their conversations and sound filled the bar once again. After a short talk with the bartender, a key was pulled from a drawer and they were escorted to the back of the bar. Hopping down a trap door, then easily navigating themselves down the stairs in the dark, the steady beating of music became more pronounced.

Following the source of the loud sounds, Hidan could be heard humming along to the song that was shaking the supposedly soundproof walls. As the greasy bartender unlocked the heavy, metal door, Deidara mustered enough energy to think exasperatedly to himself, "Well, here it goes..."

As if the consistent thumping of music alone wasn't enough, people moved in unbelievably perfect sync to the beat of the DJ's spinning. Pushing through the throng of bodies like a hot knife through butter, the two dashing young men reached a closed black door in no time before pushing it open and stepping into a room noticeably brighter than the foggy club.

Within the room were expensive leather couches with equally price-worthy people lounging upon them. More people reclined near the bar with their exotic drinks. Pool tables and card tables lined the expanse of the black, tiled floor. The sound of the club still vibrated in the air of the VIP room, but the soundproof walls mostly dimmed the harshness of the noise.

It didn't take long for them to get comfortable; soon enough they were playing pool like they usually did. Hidan was making it obvious that he'd rather be enjoying certain _other _people's presence in a much different manner, but his favorites had gone home hours ago and the women left weren't as experienced as he'd like. Anyways, his friend needed him... that meant something, right? As the Jashinist contemplated the importance of the blonde before him, Deidara concentrated on the hit he was about to deliver.

"What the fuck is up with you? You're frowning like a pussy. Now that I mention it, Itachi's been looking all fucking sad and shit, too." Deidara snorted; Hidan could always make him feel infinitely less shitty. He brought up his cue stick to recalculate the move he had been stuck on for a few minutes now, he sighed exasperatedly then put it back down.

"I really don't know, man. I just feel...so paranoid, yeah. It's really fucking weird though, because I haven't even been on a job since that fat loser's ammo shack a couple of weeks ago."

Hidan raised an eyebrow, "You been dealing instead?"

Deidara shook his head, "I'd barely call it that, yeah. Nothing's selling." Hidan cursed out a sentence that probably didn't even have any meaning.

"But it's just been really bothering me, yeah. I've got no clue why, though. It's driving me fuckin' nuts." Deidara clicked the cue back into its holding place then drifted off to the bar with Hidan right behind him.

"I've been assigned a fucking gorilla man to get rid of. It's for tomorrow night." They ordered drinks, and their rings assured that their glasses were filled to the brim and in their hands in mere seconds.

"Isn't that Kisame's specialty, yeah? 'Cause you'd surely fuck it up." Hidan punched him in the ribs.

"Hahahaha," the Jashinist chortled at the bomber's furious glare, "Nah, Pein's giving him a break off duty for a while." That sobered Deidara right up.

"What? You think it has to do with his friend, yeah?" Hidan swallowed half of his drink in one go.

"Of course it has to fuckin' do with Kisame's fuckin' bitch, you dumbfuck," the silver-haired vampire snapped knowingly, "Pein's fuckin' _pissed_."

The blond kicked his crazy friend in the shins brutally, "Well, I _know _that, yeah. I'm just wondering what Kisame was thinking; keeping a friend like that." He sipped his drink then licked his lips in thought, "but **fuck **if that chick wasn't feisty."

An evil smirk curled on Hidan's lips, for the conversation had taken a turn he quite liked, "A-fucking-men! And she's a waitress; do you have any fucking idea how _sexy _bitches look in those uniforms? Fuck, man. If she's got a body I'm fucking it senseless." His striking eyes glazed over in deep thought.

"Excuse me, yeah?" Deidara turned his body to face his Hidan, "who said she'd even want to screw you? We all know she'll be begging _me _to get it on with her, yeah."

Hidan rolled his eyes, "Bitch please, she'll coming crying to me about some drag queen—that's you, by the way—trying to touch her. And that's when I'll make my fucking move."

The two men glared heatedly at each other.

"What if she turns out ugly, though?" Deidara thought aloud, "You could have her then, yeah."

"You fucking wish. Have you _seen _Kisame's taste in women? Seriously, this chick's gonna be a fuckin winner."

"Good point, yeah. But I'm still getting her first." Hidan shoved Deidara brutally, tackling him off the stool. They wrestled for a bit on the ground but it didn't really get anywhere since they had memorized each other's fighting style, they could block each other perfectly. A few minutes later, they shook their hands on it; first one to bed Sakura Haruno got $2000 and would be "the man."


	4. Of Heartaches and Knowing What You Want

**Notes: **I thought that you guys deserved another chapter since, well, the previous chapter came out quite late, and nothing crazy happened. So, here's the deal. From this day on, OOFAS: R will be updated the 17th of every month unless I say otherwise. Don't freak if things don't go as planned because I don't know if it'll work out this way or not, but we've gotta try, ne?

**Standard disclaimer applies.**

**Dedication: **to our MagicJack ad and the conversation we shared one lonely, internet-less night. "low prices!" "You cheap _whore_".

The tall, intimidating figure leaned against the dark, crusty wall behind him, feeling the light dampness seep into his thin cotton shirt. Slowly taking a deep breath, he allowed the bittersweet nicotine of his cigarette to tune out the loud rolling of the metro's wheels and the hustle bustle of faceless people in a hurry to nowhere. The train lurched to an eventual stop and the doors creaked gently as they slid open to swallow up more busy people.

Using his long legs to his advantage, Kisame strolled over to the open doors and entered the train calmly; the lit cigarette still hanging from his firm fingers decorated with callouses. Quite a few people were obviously appalled and downright terrified of his—unique, he reminded himself, not monstrous—appearance. Paying them absolutely no heed, he allowed his mind to wander to his gang's plans for this summer.

Nostalgia washed over his senses and he suddenly felt embarrassed with the dying cigarette and the permanent ink embedded into the space between his shoulder blades as the young, pouty face of a special person made itself known behind his closed eyelids.

The robotic voice horrendously butchered the pronunciation of the location of the upcoming stop, but Kisame heard not the official names of streets and areas, but the names of gangs that gathered in those parts, and meeting places known only to underground members like himself.

Eventually, after a couple of stops without him budging from his strong stance beside the seemingly perpetuity dirtied plastic benches, the train opened its doors before him and presented the passengers with another, not so pleasing, sight of a rat-infested underground subway.

Somehow managing to gracefully climb out of the train and its worse for wear station with his large stature, the dying embers of what was left of his cancer stick were thrown on the ground before being stepped on, becoming one with its cruddy surroundings.

Kisame continued to saunter down the ridiculously busy sidewalks of New York, determined to reach his destination then get the hell out as fast as possible. His head was spinning, and it was killing him. Ever since the phone call, he'd seriously realized how badly he had hurt his little kitten. She sounded so...cold. Indifferent. But he knew that was her way of coping.

_**33B**_

"Hey, you took forever—where have you been?" A tall high school junior with uniquely colored hair and skin of blue questioned the considerably small figure approaching him. He unfolded his arms to reach out and gently grip her shoulder. Most of the high school kids had already evacuated from the school building that was Konoha High School, eager to put as much distance as possible between themselves and the revolting building –with its strange teachers and dramatic students.

Kisame had had a free class last period—being a junior meant you got more free classes to "study"; yeah, right! He knew that the old geezer hadn't been able to wait another hour 'till he could smoke, and dismissed them. The shark-like teen had decided to wait for his precious freshman buddy outside school instead of joining his friends and going to the beach, and now he thanked his stars he did so.

The pinkette had finally exited the building at least ten minutes after the last bell rang, which was unusual because she liked to leave as early as possible in order to catch up with him for the walk home. She was staring at the ground with her bag hanging on only one shoulder.

"Sakura, what's going on?" He demanded softly, using his other hand to tilt her chin up and face him. Her bright, bright green eyes looked away, defiantly avoiding his black gaze. This increased his worry ten-fold; causing him to unintentionally glare at her girlish features, "Answer me, dammit!"

"It's nothing," she hissed. His outburst triggered something within her as her eyes locked sharply with his, mimicking his glare, "come off it." She tried to wiggle out of his grasp; he firmly held on tighter.

"I'm serious right now," The sixteen year old sternly informed her. His hard, black eyes were focused solely on hers, and it was irking her to no end. She hated how he could see everything when it came to her. They remained silent for sometime before she swallowed thickly and weakly pulled out of his hold. He let her.

"It's not important anymore; it's over," she whispered to the ground solemnly. "I'm fine. Just tired." She reached up to tie her long, shiny hair with small, delicate hands—everything about her was so _tiny_, he noted. Small and petite, though she didn't like to admit it, she couldn't carry much on her shoulders. She would teeter and totter before stumbling unsteadily then collapsing. He knew this much for a fact; he had seen it first hand. And that was why she needed him, to aid her in supporting her own weight, and sometimes even relieve her of some.

Two purposeful strides of his long legs had him by her side. Unsurprised by his ability to catch up so effortlessly, Sakura didn't bat an eyelash and continued her march home. At least, she tried to. Kisame seized her and pulled her to him, crushing her shorter form into his larger stature. Her face was pressed into the material of his school button-up, and her hands clutched his sides. He held her there for a few moments before he leaned his head down to press his lips to the crown of her head. And that was when he felt it; her shoulders shaking silently as she gave in to the warmth of his embrace.

Once she calmed down, she pulled away tiredly to wipe at her wet face. His hand outstretched to help her dry her cheeks, "Got anything to say, kitten?" Sakura nodded slowly.

She sniffled softly before beginning, "It's just...so hard. So. Fucking. _Hard_. I mean, everyone's been a total douche; they're all staring at me. I feel like I'm being attacked by their eyes, and then someone started this bizarre rumor and it's all just so complicated. I wish they'd just fucking stop."

Kisame sighed sadly. He tried to reason with her two weeks ago, but she wouldn't budge. She insisted to return to school two days after her parents' death, no more no less. And now the majority of the student body has been unnecessarily pestering and harassing her for one thing or another. The rumor she had mentioned had been about her parents', them having been pushed to suicide from her constant pleading and begging for a new wardrobe; absolute bullshit. If anything, it was the other way around.

Her face now dry and her breathing even, a genuine upturn of her lips came to life. He gave her a one-armed hug, which she happily returned. Sakura balanced on the tips of her feet to reach the highest point possible—which was the hollow of his throat—and wrapped her arms around his neck to whisper a sincere, "Thank you."

_**33B**_

Kisame took in a deep, calming breath. Thinking of things like that made him think of how she might've felt less than a year later, when he had left to the big apple. Had anyone been there to hold her while she raged over his sudden absence? Or did she have to manage on her own? An uncharacteristic pain in his chest made itself known at the thought of her crying alone. It doubled at the thought of another man comforting her. Suddenly, the hit man of the Akatsuki decided that he needed alcohol, and a _whole lot of it_, too.

Entering the building Pein had told him to retrieve a letter from; he resolved that he would be in a bar alongside Itachi as soon as possible.

33B

((Scribble))

((Scribble—dot))

A sigh.

A young but wise man slid a hand through more papers that needed looking at. Remarkable eyes roamed carelessly over the fine, black print before being hidden behind their lids. The muscular figure relaxed into his expensive, leather seat. Pein sighed through his nose lightly, allowing his thoughts to wander to his "men."

A gentle smirk of amusement graced his unbelievably handsome face as he imagined the members of his gang in what a particular mobster forced followers to wear. He almost chuckled to himself at the mental image of Kisame in pale robes and a purple bow.

_Kisame_.

Pein sighed again and opened his eyes. It had irked him quite a bit to know that one of his most trusted members had such close ties with someone not under the title of the Akatsuki. This girl didn't have a tattoo, she didn't have a ring, she didn't take any pledge or anything of the sort—hell, she didn't even _know_ of the Akatsuki. And that was bad. Very bad. This would now mean that they would need a cover story and an entire other load of bullshit to deceive the female who was—unknowingly—hiding them. On top of that, the girl was going to be in a vulnerable position.

He couldn't, however, deny that this little friend down by the beach didn't serve as the perfect solution to their problem. Staying in someone's house that at least one of them was familiar with could banish most if not all suspicion over the motive of the Akatsuki suddenly getting on a plane and flying over to Florida. That train of thought reminded him of exactly what it was he was doing at the moment, filling out the proper paperwork.

Pein growled animalistically and resumed to the tedious job that included furiously writing, scratching out, reading and signing and memorizing...

33B

This was seriously getting annoying; she had been fruitlessly trying to get this undeserving culprit out of her private swimming pool, but he just **would not budge.**

Damn you, leaf.

Sakura leaned over the edge of the pool even more, however she only resulted in almost falling in fully clothed. She squealed softly as she regained balance, hair in a disarray due to the frantic waving she had done to resist gravity, then resumed to glaring at the obnoxious, not to mention _disobedient_, piece of greenery. Sakura growled under her breath.

Damn him, _twice_.

There hadn't even been a single gust of wind today, she argued to herself. These godforsaken leaves seemed to be out to get her. Her thoughts came to a screeching halt as the phone inside began to ring. The petite pinkette dropped a hip, contemplating whether to give up on the leaf and answer, or just continue to humiliate herself in front of...herself.

The phone trilled again.

Having made up her mind, she dropped the net and sped-walked through the backdoor and into the house.

33B

So much for your awesome friends calling you, she thought bitterly. It had been one of those weird wrong number people, the ones that realized you weren't who they were calling the second you say "Hello", then continue to do absolutely nothing other than breathe awkwardly.

Sakura was going to strangle all those idiots. Couldn't you just _apologize _then hang up? I mean, come on!

The pinkette sighed and ran a hand through her thick locks. Kisame and the rest would be showing up soon, and she really needed to stock up on stuff, like food. Her stomach grumbled at the thought. She softly murmured impolite nothings at what she _had_ to do. Growing up, Sakura did her best to do what she _had_ to do until Kisame helped her realize the importance of doing what you _want_ to do. Sakura decided to do something she wanted to do before doing what had to be done. And she wanted to do something reckless and –and…**dangerous.**

And so she bounded into the nearest guestroom to jump wildly on the bed.

A few minutes of hopping and squealing later, she skipped out the door, satisfied with her previous actions. Absently, she wondered who would be appropriate to bring with her to the store, unaware of the shaking of the tree above her pool in contrast to the calm, motionless trees surrounding it.


	5. Of Hard Times and Boyfriends

The sun's heat beat onto my back in waves, while the cool water tried to relieve my feet of the toasty warmth that was the sand, by lapping at my toes. My knees were brought up to rest beneath my chin, and my hands were submerged in the damp sand. It was the moment every girl dreamed of—just, without the guy. I sighed serenely, totally at peace with my surroundings. The people left on the beach were just as lazy and quiet —the mood was very soothing. Faintly, I heard the pounding of feet against damp sand behind me.

I had less than a second to react; in other words, I had no time to react at all. My hair and face became speckled with sand as I was pushed down. A shock of bright blonde hair and an even brighter smile lit up my line of vision, I laughed in spite of myself. Hands warmer than the sun wrapped around my waist and I returned the favor by enveloping their neck with my own.

"Naruto!" I giggled merrily, relaxing on the ground with him still squashing me with his impressive weight and stature. When we were younger, our heights didn't differ, and some even said I was taller. But now he could pick me up with barely any effort; something he took advantage of a bit __too__much.

"When did you get back, you big idiot?" He ignored the insult, knowing I didn't mean it rudely, and nuzzled his face between my breasts. I smacked his head and yelled a bit, he did nothing but laugh.

"We haven't been here long; I just couldn't take another minute without the beach," He explained with his eyes focused on the horizon.

"You've only been gone a week, Naruto," I told him as I pushed against him so he could get up. We opted for sitting cross-legged beside each other with the ocean rolling in front of us with its unearthly shades of blue and majestic waves. Show off.

"All it takes is three days to start missing it, believe it."

I smiled and answered, "I'm believing it, man," Without turning to him. "What did you do there?" I asked him. It had been a business trip of Sasuke's father's and he had been invited to tag along. The tanned boy grinned widely, and I prepared myself for some good ole' exaggeration.

"There was this chick, right? And she was totally checking me out from the second we stepped into the hotel—and we had all this sexual tension, and it was _so _obvious we wanted each other." He went on, excited to describe what happened. I looked straight into his shining eyes, ones that reminded me of the color of the unpredictable ocean. I had known Naruto a long, long time—longer than I knew Kisame, even. We grew up together, and he was the one who taught me what hope was, and from him I understood what it meant to have faith and to be strong.

Naruto saved me from a dark period a long time ago, and the importance of him in my life was so great that I doubted dying for him would even be able to repay the debt I felt I owed him.

_33B_

"You know, the hospital would be more than happy to take care of her until child care arrives," The thin nurse tried to reason with the man. She had a dazzling smile and a high voice; she was flirting. Minato almost shot her. How could she be flirting? _How _on Earth is there a woman****flirting ****with him while the abandoned child of his (ex) best friends lay on a cot in the next room?

Was she**** insane****?

"No. I'd appreciate it if you just let me take her, now. And no, I do not want a foster home system prepared for her; I'll straighten everything out with her uncle before we do anything," Minato bluntly told her. He was just going to get Sakura and get out. Absently, he wondered how she could put up with being in this god forsaken place for so long; he'd only been here for ten minutes and he was already about to slam this woman.

But Minato wasn't usually a very violent guy; it was just the situation that made him want to explode. He pushed past the nurse and slid open the door. A young Sakura blinked her bright green eyes, and a wide grin broke across her face when she recognized him.

He couldn't help but mimic her actions, "Hey there, sunshine." Her head was repeatedly wrapped with thick, white bandages, and her hospital gown did nothing to lessen the paleness of her skin. It seemed the only color on her was the enchanting green of her wide eyes.

"Hey," She hoarsely whispered in return. He offered the child a glass of water from beside her bulky bed, and she greedily took gulps of the cool liquid. She thanked him with a clearer voice before asking him why he was here. The blonde man looked down at his hands, not sure how to start.

He had rehearsed a million times in the car on his way here; why was it so impossible to say? Secretly, though, he knew why. He knew that there was little to no way he could bring himself to be the source of this naïve girl's sorrow and disappointment. Granted, it wasn't actually his fault, but he would be remembered as the one who broke the news to her. And he really didn't want that. But it wasn't like he had another choice; either he told her himself or he set her up for more pain. If he decided to leave everything be and not say anything, she'd be more confused and upset when she found out later.

_"___It'd be better to say it straight out—just get it over with," __he thought to himself. Minato drew in a deep breath, and began.

"Your parents aren't coming back, Sakura." He risked stealing a glance of her. She was no longer smiling, but there were no signs of feeling. Her face was blank, like a canvas. And he was going to paint a really ugly painting.

"A nurse saw them leaving yesterday night, and they haven't been spotted since. Phone calls have been ignored, and the house is empty. We've done everything we can—I just got back from driving around the area, asking people. I'm really, really sorry, cookie. I never though it would come to this,"

She was smoothing down the blanket that was spread over her lap and legs, as if she wasn't even listening to him. But Minato knew she was, because her eyes were wet and her hands shaking. She twiddled her feet this way and that, ruining the purpose of tidying the thin blanket to begin with.

Sakura swallowed thickly before croaking, "I know."

Of all the things she could've responded with ("You're lying!" or "I don't believe you!"), that was something he honestly wasn't prepared to hear. She knew? What did she know? Or was she not even aware of what she was saying? Minato didn't have the chance to cook up more theories because the young girl spoke again. This time, she was staring at the ceiling.

"They told me that they had to go somewhere—that it was something important that couldn't wait for later," she turned to look at him, staring straight into his blue orbs as she continued, "Mommy started crying. She told me that she loved me, but not enough to come back." Tears were streaming down her face and she wiped furiously at her face.

"But they said sorry, so I had to say it was okay."

33B

"Is there anything else left up there? Anything you can't carry?" Sakura hopped down the steps with a small box in her hands, shaking her head no. Her parents disappeared two months ago, and a thin layer of pink hair had regrown on her small head. The surgery had gone miraculously perfect, and the insignificant leftovers of the tumor were being eliminated by the radiation sessions. Just two more visits to the hospital over the next four months, and she'd be good to go.

Two weeks after the vanishing of her parents, the hospital released her. Childcare and officers recommended sending her to an orphanage or putting her into foster care, but the Uzumaki's blatantly refused. Sakura would live with them until they found a suitable adoptive family; anyone with the intention of keeping little Sakura would be physically and mentally checked by any and all methods humanly possible.

She moved in with them and had made great friends with their youngest son, Naruto, who was the same age. The child was a queer one, and so had little to no problems with getting along with her. Five days with him was all it took for Naruto to break the pinkette out of the nonspeaking routine she had adopted a few hours after the officers interrogated her concerning the couple's disappearance.

They were now inseparable; he couldn't go to the bathroom without her waiting for him at the door. So far, she spoke whenever he was present and sometimes without, she was improving by leaps and bounds. But the fact that she couldn't sleep in any other room besides his didn't strike Kushina as cute; she was worried. She didn't have a problem with their tight-knit friendship—in fact, she was touched by how close they had become—but school was nearing, and she doubted Sakura would survive. How could she handle so many foreign people at once? And there was no guarantee that Naruto would be able to give her his undivided attention as he usually did.

Sakura reached the car and climbed in, gingerly plopping down next to the blonde. Minato had taken the box she was carrying and just finished stuffing it into the trunk along with the rest of her things. As of today, Sakura Haruno had officially moved out of her house. She had been spending the past few weeks in their house, but they had to make daily trips to her old house to slowly gather all of her things.

Minato got back into the car, the sound of his son's endless chatter welcoming his ears as he turned on the vehicle. The ride home was warm and comfortable and they all sported flashing grins, but Sakura's eyes seemed to twinkle the brightest.

_33B_

"...And she was _kinky, _Sakura! You don't get it, she was all dominatrix and shit and—"

"That's very charming, Naruto," I cut in. I really hadn't been listening till that point, but I didn't really want to hear more of that. I usually had no problem listening to the details of my friends' love lives, but after that unsettling memory, I needed a hug. And I knew just whom I needed it from.

The sudden gesture surprised him, but he readily returned it with the passion I loved about him. When we parted, I flipped my short bangs behind me and asked, "Did Sasuke get any action?"

33B

Naruto smirked, something he didn't do unless he was being mischievous instead of silly. He caught how the girl beside him tensed as she sensed the sudden change in demeanor.

"The bastard sure did have a lot of opportunities," Sakura's eyebrows furrowed.

"...But he didn't take them?"

"Oh, trust me—he tried," The blonde wiggled his eyebrows.

Sakura spun around to face him, "Naruto, what are you trying to say?" He chuckled and draped an arm over her shoulders.

"What I'm saying, is that poor little Sasuke had a special girl on his mind the whole trip—the unlucky bastard couldn't bring himself to sleep with anyone."

Sakura froze, "What?" Naruto didn't nod nor did he say anything, he just waited for the explosion.

"YOU HAVE TO TELL ME," She demanded a few seconds after she recovered from the shock. Sakura tackled him to the ground—he actually fell back on his own, complying with her pushing at his chest—and started to shake his shoulders as if that would make the truth tumble out of his mouth. He continued to smile at her, not saying anything.

She finally ceased abusing him and rested her backside on his stomach. Her shoulders sagged, as if in surrender. "Naruto, __please__, you ****have****to tell me, this isn't fair!" She pouted cutely, and though they practically grew up together, he resisted the urge to pull her face down and kiss her. __"It wouldn't be the first time, though___,"_ he thought to himself.

"Sorry Sakura, but I can't tell you," __That it's you__, he continued in his head. "The bastards' made me swear on my life that I wouldn't say anything, and, you know that I never break my promises, believe it."

She smacked his arm lightly, causing him to laugh, "But you can't just bother her all on your own; I want to be in on it, too!" Naruto couldn't help but laugh harder about how ironic it all was. __"Can't you see? I __am__bothering her___."_

She groaned loudly—and their position wasn't exactly helping—so what was left of the people on the beach gave them weird looks. She eventually gave up on trying to get the information from him and instead rested on his chest, wrapping her arms around his neck. He held onto her bare waist more forcefully than what was necessary, so Sakura became nervous.

And with good reason too. Because the next thing she knew, he had flipped them both to the right—where the ocean was—and allowed the cool water of the Atlantic to engulf her bikini-clad form. She shrieked and giggled merrily and he joined her. After a few minutes of thrashing around in the water and fulfilling the purpose of wearing swimsuits to begin with, they calmed down and she cuddled up with him on the sand, soaking up what little of the sun was left.

33B

"So, where's Sasuke, anyways?" I asked him.

"He wanted to go home and put his things away before heading to the beach—he said he'd catch up later."

I heard the shuffling of sand as someone made their way towards us and smiled up at Naruto's good-looking face, "Well, speak of the devil-"

"And he will come," Sasuke finished for me. Naruto and I sat up as the dashing young man approached us. He allowed himself to sit on my other side, considerably closer than Naruto. His smooth skin was pressed against my own and his dark eyes bore into mine. Simple things like touches and eye contact were the equivalent of hugs and warm words when it came to Sasuke. For him to do both meant a lot to me, so I reached out to hug him tightly.

His hand gently gripped my shoulder and pulled me down to rest my head in his lap. The fabric of his swimming trunks was rough against my hair but it didn't bother me. Naruto felt left out and so laid his head on my stomach.

"Sakura, you need a new bikini," Sasuke bluntly informed me. I rolled my eyes but otherwise continued to run my fingers through the blonde's thick locks.

"Oh, thank you, Sasuke. That's just so nice," I sarcastically replied. He shot me that knee-weakening Uchiha smirk. How dare he be that good-looking? We've already talked about this. He knows that his "charm" pissed me off because it worked on me. Faintly, I remembered that day. I had been fed up with what I felt whenever he gave me smoldering looks, and he had been smug to know it affected me. After stuttering confessions and a very, very red face, he agreed not to "flirt" with me any more.

Naruto raised his legs and threw them on Sasuke, "Sakura's bikini is __perfect__." The dark haired man was thrown off balance a bit before he aggressively dropped his fist into the blonde's stomach.

"Tch, I know," He snapped back, and they continued glaring heatedly at each other. They said something through their eyes—something I didn't understand—that ended with them having a row without even moving from their places. They grunted and yelled as they continued to harass each other, and I did nothing but laugh happily.

33B

The boys had decided to swim and so continued into the cool waters of the ocean. Sakura had fooled around a bit with them, but then told them she was going to hang out at the bar.

"Maybe I'll buy you two some snacks, okay?" She called over her shoulder to the pair of stunning men still in the water. Water began to splash behind her and she tensed, expecting it to be Naruto about to glomp her again. When a warm hand rested on her shoulder, though, she recognized Sasuke's pale skin.

"Hold on," he murmured before jogging towards the beach. She followed him at a slower pace. Absently, between her thoughts of Sasuke and where he was going, she noticed that Naruto was not making any noise at all. The raven-haired teen from her childhood returned from his car with a large piece of fabric in his hands. Upon closer inspection she realized it was a navy blue shirt with his clan's crest on the back. He handed her the soft article of clothing, "I'd rather you not walk around alone in that."

Sakura's heart began to beat violently fast against her chest and she felt her ears burn as Ino's voice blared in her head like an alarm, __"Boy-Rule #83: if he's offering you his clothes—especially in public—he's trying to mark you, to make it obvious to others that he has his eyes on you. And because he wants you to smell like him."__The flustered pinkette swiped the shirt from his hands, trying not to think of the warmth that was exchanged between them or of the feeling of his calloused hands against her own smaller ones.

She hurriedly mumbled a, "Thanks," with her eyes to the ground, as she couldn't find it in her to look him in the eyes. Her short legs made quick work of getting her away from him and to the bar as she pulled the large shirt over her head, it's hem falling a couple of inches below her hips.

Sakura silently sat on a barstool at the end of the wooden bar, thoughts knocking around in her head and embarrassment igniting a blazing fire that seemed to engulf her neck and face.

What had just happened back there? She could remember the day when Sasuke and herself shared sippy cups and squabbled over who was the taller one. Working on cooking up theories on __why__Dora's parents had no problem with letting their child dawdle with a naked monkey with nothing but a talking map to rely on while a pedophiliac fox hunted them down. She also remembered instances from more than a decade ago and less than a month ago where physical contact and protective nature transpired between them.

Why is she suddenly taking everything so...seriously? No…__Hormonally__? Something was so different that it was heart stopping, and though she couldn't put her finger on it, she knew it was there. Was it because of what Naruto had told her? Maybe that opened her eyes to the fact that Sasuke was interested in girls—or in __a girl__, more like? That made no sense; the Uchiha had dated at least three other girls before, and it hadn't done anything like this to her before! The green eyed girl tried to draw in a deep breath to calm her nerves, but she only ended up shivering uncomfortably as the smell of Sasuke's cologne permeated her senses.

The young Haruno felt wetness gather in her stunning eyes at her frustration and inner turmoil; how could she think that way of Sasuke? There was absolutely no way he'd see in her in such a light—what was she thinking? __"I'm overreacting like the moronic magic-loving teenager I am; he __does not like you_, Sakura___. You're just...going crazy? Nah, that happened ages ago. So, maybe the crazy is just finally catching up with my hormones as well as my state of mind."__

She rested her forehead on the wooden surface of the bar's counter, wondering why she always proved to be a bigger idiot than she had previously believed. Wishing for nothing else than to just doze off and leave her worries on the counter for the meantime. Sakura wasn't all that glad to spot a brightly colored, curvaceous figure approach her. Well, this'll surely be nice—just what she needed, a good ole' brainless big mouth. The pinkette sighed, softly whispering an apology for thinking of her friend in that way.

"Hey, Bill-Board Brow!" The stunning teen called loudly, catching quite a lot of attention. Ino finally reached the confused girl and promptly settled her fancied backside on a stool next to said depressed-looking specimen. Sakura kept quiet, not returning her friend's greeting. Ino raised an eyebrow—Sakura always envied how most of her friends could do that—and asked her what crawled up her ass and died.

Sakura snorted at Ino's blunt way of saying things, "You think you know something, and then suddenly—you don't. Why can't things stay simple?"

Ino straightened her posture and crossed her legs sophisticatedly, looking like nothing other than a magazine-model in a form-fitting purple short sleeve shirt and mid-thigh gray denim shorts with her fabulous hair pouring down her curved back in eye-catching yellow waves. She then answered Sakura's rhetorical question.

"Makes it more interesting, darling. How else would we know what we're made of if we had the time to plan for the apocalypse?" She recited wisely. Piercing green eyes slowly met spectacular blue, and Sakura smiled gently at her friend. It were times like this when Sakura felt a very soft spot for—

"That's got to be the oldest swimsuit I've seen in my life." Scratch that. Sakura rolled her eyes but her face remained plastered to the counter.

"You and Sasuke both!" Ino raised her eyebrows, indicating for Sakura to elaborate. "He made it clear that my choice in swimwear wasn't exactly up to his standards."

"He's been making his move on you, you know," The blonde stated importantly, flipping her hair back as she said it.

The pinkette groaned, "Ino! Not every guy I know __likes me__. First Kiba's got the hots for me, then Lee's interested, and now Sasuke? Who's next, Neji? Come on, Ino."

Ino pulled a face, "Why don't you ever believe me?"

Sakura sighed, "Because back in fifth grade you told me that Sasuke liked me, and I made a total fool of myself."

"How could you judge me based off of something that happened when we were newly entering the double-digit age?" Ino sputtered, smacking her friend's arm lightly, "Anyways, that was back when I was friends with people like Karin," She defended. That statement brought back memories of their childhood.

The pair of close friends remained in silence, except for the clanging of Ino's bracelets when she got herself comfortable. "You know what you need, Sakura? You need something...different. A change in scenery, you could say," She nodded to herself. Sakura raised her eyebrows, silently giving her friend the "go on" sign.

"You need a boyfriend—and not a friend who's a boy. I mean a _real _boyfriend. Like, you love each other and stuff."

...

"__Pfffft___—_Ino, please," Sakura threw her head back and laughed loudly, "I mean, I know you like cracking jokes, but this is just too much." She continued to giggle—that is, until she saw Ino's straight face. "Oh no," she moaned, "You can't be serious!"

The blonde nodded solemnly, her expression scarily serious. Sakura banged her head against the bar's counter again.

"Not to mention how this matter becomes like, a million times more important since Kisame's on his way back," Ino continued, ignoring her friend's apparent lack of interest, "think of it like this: how would you look, eighteen—"

"Nineteen in a month," Sakura grumbled.

"—Eighteen and still a virgin without a boyfriend since the tenth grade?"

"I'd say I'm sorry, but I can't even find enough sarcasm to _lie_ about this; Ino, I don't believe in rushing into things like virginity, boyfriends, and whatever other shit you're thinking of complaining about. My uncle taught me to value things like that."

"Yeah, well, my parents taught me that babies came falling from the sky whenever lightning struck—you don't necessarily have to believe everything your elders toss in your general direction. I'm not saying that you should strip down and do the hula on the roof of some guy's car. I'm just encouraging you to do some hunting, you know?"

Sakura mulled it over a bit in her head. Ino noticed this and straight out said it, "Look, that guy over there—no, not the one in a speedo, ew—seems sweet. Why not go do some flirting?"

"...You want me to flirt?"

"Yes. Flirt."

"Sorry, Ino, but I don't speak desperate." Ino face-palmed.

33B


	6. Of Bigger Boobs and Seat 32B

Yes, yes I know, I'm in trouble...but this summer has been more bad than good, and I still can't wrap my head around it all. Though you guys deserve more than that, and I'm sure the last thing you want is for me to keep rambling on and on instead of reading this chapter, so I'd just like to quickly announce a couple of things:

o1. OOFAS: R will _still_be updated every seventeenth, but if it doesn't happen one month, expect it on the 17th of the next.  
>o2. Chapters from three to here have all been read over and beta-ed by the amazing <strong>InescapableFate<strong>; she is truly amazing and GURL I LOVE YOU. So, snap your fingers for her, please.  
>o3. If you haven't already noticed, this chapter has not been titled. That's because it's no longer my job to do so; it's yours. From this day forward, reviewers have a window of seven days (until the 24th of every month) to review what you think the title should be according to what you have read in the chapter. So, if you think this chapter was about telepathic whales and roller skating, then you just drop in your review: "Of Telepathic Whales and Roller Skating". It must be in that form, m'kay?<p>

ON WITH THE STORREH.

**Standard disclaimer applied**.

* * *

><p>His long, slender fingers swiftly weaved themselves between the hangers, pausing his search every once in a while to remove an article of clothing from his closet and neatly fold it into his suitcase. He worked quickly and efficiently; barely any noise resonated throughout his simple, black room other than the soft clicking of plastic hitting against more plastic. Itachi sighed to himself, his eyes closing during the brief attempt at relaxation. What was he doing? Actually, it was more like what was <em>Pein <em>doing? What was that man thinking, sending the entire gang down to Miami at once?

The lean Uchiha suddenly slammed the wooden door of his wardrobe shut, the force of the action causing a gust of air to blow gently at his face, his dark bangs brushing across his cheeks. The loud bang echoed throughout his small apartment, but he paid it no attention. He knew what was bothering him; he just didn't like admitting it. Sending the gang members one by one would be so much more suspicious than all of them traveling together like some large group of friends on vacation.

_No, _he thought bitterly to himself, _that's__ not what is bothering me. _Itachi reached for random, unread books from his shelves and forced them into his suitcase. _It's whom I'll more than likely _see _there that's getting me all worked up. _He grunted angrily as he effortlessly zipped his overflowing suitcase closed.

Someone knocked at the door. Itachi rolled his suitcase from his room to the hallway and parked it next to the rest of his luggage; a black duffle bag and a smaller version of the suitcase he had been packing. The door was unlocked and swung open easily enough, and, as expected, Kisame stood in his doorway in all his awkwardly tall glory.

"Hey there, kid," The Hoshigaki grinned toothily at his younger friend. Somehow, Kisame always found himself befriending younger people. He didn't know if that was a good or bad thing, because it could mean that he wasn't mentally mature enough to interact with people his age. _Or_, his pride butted in, _it could mean that you need to feel superior. _That small thought didn't sit very well with him, actually. Was that why he had become so close to Sakura? To feel better than her, just because he was older?

_Fuck, _he cursed to himself, _when am I going to stop humiliating myself?_

33B

The car ride was smooth and silent for the most part. Of course, it was far from awkward, as they were comfortable just being quiet together. Kisame understood why Itachi was nervous about being in Miami for such a long period of time, and the Uchiha was aware of the fact that Kisame wasn't all too happy about exposing a precious person from his past to their lifestyle. Of course, they were planning on keeping it a secret from the girl; Pein had decided that the less she knew, the better.

And as much as Itachi valued manners, he couldn't help the random curses that escaped from his thin lips as he was, begrudgingly, mentally attacked by his own thoughts.

"Dude, you might not even see him there. Who knows," Kisame tried to console his friend from his spot behind the steering wheel, "he might have moved to a different part of Miami!" The Uchiha simply sent him a look that clearly advised the bluish man not to waste his breath. Kisame cleared his throat, embarrassed.

Itachi felt bad for shooting down his well-intentioned partner, and so struck up conversation to relieve the awkward tension in the air, "Humor me, Kisame. Who is this mysterious girl you've suddenly known for the most of your life?"

The Hoshigaki smirked gently to himself, knowing that a question like this would eventually arise. He just hadn't expected this kind of curiosity from his handsome friend. He continued to drive smoothly for a while before making up his mind and digging into his pocket. Soon enough, a large hand presented to the young man in the passenger seat a plain, black wallet. Kisame instructed him to look through the small pocket.

Itachi pulled out a scatter of miniature photos, some of which included images of the Akatsuki. Thumbing through them silently, he finally landed on a picture depicting a girl whom he was unfamiliar with. A teen, which was obviously Kisame, for the blue characteristics and magnificent height were unmistakable, stood smiling widely—Itachi couldn't help but mentally note how his grin was still the same. He was not alone in the photo, however. Hanging on his back with their face perched on his shoulder, was a pink-haired girl. She had her arms and a leg wrapped around the Hoshigaki comfortably, and was pressing the side of her face into his neck as she happily beamed at the camera.

"I met her when I was about eleven, and I think she was eight or nine. She was getting bullied at school and used me as a human body shield. At first I was like her bodyguard—now that I look back at it, I was really pathetic—but she paid me with packed lunch from her mom so it was cool. And then I taught her how to hand someone's ass to them when I turned twelve, and the bullying stopped. But she still hung out with me."

Itachi hummed in response, "You two seem closer than mere friends in this photo." Kisame grimaced and tsked loudly.

"To be honest, I had the hots for her in high school, but I never had the balls to ask her out." He chuckled a bit at his friend's face.

"I wouldn't expect _you _to have been lacking in boldness—there must be a legitimate reason as to why you couldn't even ask."

_Damn you, Itachi, _he mentally cursed as he stopped at a red light, _always so perceptive_. The kind of information that the response held was personal; it depicted a time where he had done things that made him who he was today. And in this case, that wasn't necessarily good thing. The large man stole a glance at Itachi out of the corner of his eye. The dashing Uchiha was still studying the photograph with a blank look on his face. Kisame sighed to himself, if Itachi couldn't be trusted then no one could, he concluded.

"When I was in eleventh grade, I took her as my date to the Junior-Senior prom. That was when I really realized just how badly I wanted her." The blue-haired man chuckled lowly to himself at the memory.

_**33B**_

My legs wouldn't sit still and I kept reaching up to scratch at my shoulders. The suit I had rented was jet-black and very sleek, but the woman behind the counter hadn't mentioned how fucking itchy this thing was. I let a breath escape my lips as I reassured myself that I would be returning this piece of shit as soon as humanly possible. The pitter-patter of feet caught my attention, and suddenly Ino Yamanaka was all up in my face.

"There's totally no freaking way you're going to recognize her!" She squealed giddily, and I groaned as I slipped the blazer off my shoulders.

"Ino, you weren't suppose to perform plastic surgery on her—come to think of it, you don't even need to be here."

The fourteen year old blonde glared nastily at me, but it didn't last long as a wild grin crawled its way onto her face, "Oh, trust me, you just lay your eyes on her and you'll be worshipping me for the goddess I am." I was about to smartly reply that Sakura looked fine the way she was already, when said pink-haired freshman's voice sounded from the second floor.

"Ino! There's something horribly wrong with the dress! I can't believe you didn't catch it earlier—we've got to get our money back," She called. Ino's eyebrows furrowed, probably wondering what the hell Sakura was yelling about.

"What do you mean there's something wrong?" The blonde screeched back. It was now my turn to glare fiercely at her as her high-pitched voice rang through my ears like lightning.

"The sleeves," Sakura hollered, "they've been ripped right off the dress!" It was quiet after that for a bit, as I was officially confused since this was making quite literally, no fucking sense. But then Ino face-palmed and muttered irritated nonsense to herself about idiots that lived under rocks before calling out to our distressed friend.

"It's called a strapless dress, Forehead girl! There _are _no sleeves to begin with!" That had Sakura bounding down the stairs to confront Ino about it face to face, but before I could even turn and get a glimpse of her, Ino leaped in the girl's general direction to keep her from entering my vision.

"No sleeves? How the heck does it stay on me?"

Ino sighed patiently, "It sticks to your body so it won't slip off."

"...But I have no boobs to keep it in place. Pig, I don't think this is going to work. I'm going to go tell Kisame that this isn't going to work. Kisame! This isn't going to—!" She was interrupted by Ino, who had unmistakably smacked the pink-haired girl.

By now, I was smirking wickedly. _This is one of the reasons why I love Sakura; she's just so—wait, what? _The smirk was wiped clean off my face, as I stood rod-straight. _Love? No, _I reassured myself pathetically, _I didn't mean it like that._

I was suddenly reminded of how uncomfortable my pants were at the knees, and so I clumsily started to scratch at my legs. The girls' conversation had been tuned out, and now I was doing nothing but fruitlessly trying to convince myself that it had been a misunderstanding on my part—a misuse of words.

It now hurt when I scratched at my legs, so I instead began to fumble with my tie, untying it then wondering how in the holy name of cows I was suppose to put this shit back together. Subconsciously, I knew very well that I was only trying to avoid thinking about that other thing which _was an innocent mistake, so __**stop thinking about it**_.

I sighed heavily. For a second, I honestly forgot that Sakura had come down the stairs to complain about not finding the sleeves on a sleeveless dress, so I turned around to ask Ino what kind of sorcery this was—and then I saw her. In all my years of being Sakura's best friend, I had seen her in practically everything—from daisy-dukes to pajamas, from turtleneck sweaters to bikinis. But never, not ever, have I seen her looking like this.

Her delicate body had been squeezed into a crème, strapless dress that reached her mid-thighs. The bodice was tight around her torso and was somehow heart-shaped from the top, allowing my eyes to prey upon the soft skin of her breasts, which were teasingly exhibited—but it fluffed out around the bottom, covering her bottom and such adequately. The dress itself was adorned with vibrant roses of pink and blue, which were all joined by long vines that extended all around her small body. Her creamy legs, slightly toned from all the walking and swimming, were bare and shining seductively like her arms. She stood on three-inched, velvet green pumps that matched the shade of the vines wrapped around the dress and, consequently, her body.

Pink locks that curled around themselves naturally had been lifted into a crazy up-do, however her bangs had been straightened and pulled slightly to a side. Her make-up was simple and very subtle—all I could see on her face was eyeliner and mascara (which did wonders for her eyes) along with lip-gloss. Although her cheeks had been dusted with a light pink, I doubted that it was makeup.

I gulped and blinked a couple of times before I pulled my shit (read: brain) together and smirked, "Well, well, well," I chuckled lowly, "who would've thought that little ole' Sakura could pull something like _this _off?" She blushed a bit harder, but in my eyes it made her all the more attractive. Ino cackled, saying something about how amazing she was, but I remained solely focused on Sakura. Suddenly a ringing reached our ears and the blonde dashed to answer her phone, which ended up with her having a heated conversation with someone in the kitchen. Leaving us alone.

The pinkette wobbled a bit when she approached me, but in general she did a good job at avoiding falling face first into the wooden floor of her house. When she was finally practically right against me she reached up to fix my tie, which had completely slipped my mind. I studied her face as she worked, shamelessly staring straight into her eyes even though she wasn't looking at me. Once she was satisfied with her work she smiled gently, and I, embarrassedly, felt my heart beat faster.

"Much better," She softly said to herself more than to me. After a few moments of silence she sighed and finally looked me in the eyes, "you know, when I was looking at myself in the mirror, I couldn't believe how much taller I seemed, but now, standing next to you, I feel so...tiny, all over again." She laughed a bit to herself, but I couldn't find it in me to join her.

But it was true, instead of reaching my collarbone; her forehead now grazed the bottom of my chin. But she still had to look up to see me properly, and I still could have easily picked her up with a single hand and thrown her over my shoulder. How tempting my thoughts were proving to be...

That was when Ino entered the scene, slyly exclaiming that she had to go wash her nonexistent cat—everyone and their mother knew she was on her way to meet her "secret" boyfriend. That crazy bitch practically _ran _down the street. I chuckled a bit at her before turning back to face my...ahem, date.

And out of all the positions I could've caught her in, with her as exceptionally beautiful as she was tonight, luck had it that I would turn to see the pinkette shoving her bright purple phone and house keys between her not-so-plentiful breasts. She continued to wordlessly stare at the little space the dress offered, poking at her own chest with an owlish expression.

This wasn't exactly anything new to me, and I even knew what she was going to say in less than a minute. Although a selfish part of me had actually been hoping she would strut around like the model she could've been mistaken for, the biggest part of me was somehow even more turned on by the fact she was still so ridiculously oblivious.

She looked up to me with those big, bright, green eyes and said what I had been anticipating:

"I need bigger boobs."

I smirked and pulled my blazer off the back of the chair I had tossed it on, shoving my arms through the sleeves as I walked towards her. Her soft skin sent trails of fire shooting through my chest when I draped an arm around her bare shoulders. Her hand found the jut of my hip. With our sides pressed together and smiles adorning our young faces we walked down her driveway to my beat-up car.

I leaned down to rest my cheek on the top of her little head, "I'll buy you some, cupcake."

_**33B**_

"That night, we did some seriously stupid shit. We ended up an hour early for the party, so decided to drive around the less than impressive part of town. I was able to score some booze and we drank ourselves to oblivion. We ended up never going to prom." Kisame had parked the car a few minutes ago, but they were still just sitting there quietly—the Hoshigaki reminiscing while Itachi took it all in.

The dashing raven-haired twenty year old looked up to his partner, his dark eyes lacking the hardness they usually harbored as he asked, "And then?"

Said partner sighed and began to crack his knuckles, "And then her foster parents died, and I couldn't bring myself to confess when she was so miserable—and now I know that it had been my chance, and I missed it. I could've had her if I wasn't such a fucking wimp. And I know it for a fact, because..." He swallowed heavily, trying to avoid Itachi's gaze.

"Because that was when she got a boyfriend."

33B

Two figures stood in a dark, isolated hallway. They were both obviously nervous; despite the fact that it was difficult to see in the shady corridor, their uneven breathing and the constant sound of shuffling feet gave them away. The man with the larger frame was fidgeting more noticeably than his leaner colleague.

"Oh, man—what if he finds out?"

"Finds what out?" Snapped the second man, obviously irritated, "There's nothing for him to find out."

"But we almost blew our cover," The bulkier figure whispered.

"No, no—_you _almost blew _your _cover. But it's okay. He...he doesn't have to know. I got you out of it, so everything's fine—"

"You made direct contact, for Christ's sake! You broke the number one rule of spying!" He panicked, now hissing.

"_Shut up_. I can not believe you're saying shit like this when I put my life on the line to save your sorry ass."

"I didn't mean it like that, S—"

"The important thing is that she doesn't suspect anything, right?" It was quiet for a while as the bigger man contemplated this statement.

"...R-right...but still, she's got your number on her caller ID. She could call back—"

"But she hasn't till now. That means that we're in the clear. Juugo, just calm down, man. Instead of breathing down my neck, use this time to think of other ways to climb a fucking tree without shaking all the leaves like there's a freaking earthquake—"

"Sshh," The first man interrupted the second sharply. They both quieted down at the sound of footsteps approaching them.

Soon enough, the dark silhouette of a thin man appeared, his height measured in-between the first pair of males. He did not make any sign to acknowledge them; instead he pushed open an opulently designed door and entered. The figures behind him followed, however they did not have the luxury of taking a seat like the newcomer, who had wasted no time in planting himself behind a large, lavish desk.

The large door creaked quietly as it shut behind them, both men flinching at the sound. The third seemed unaffected, flipping back the jet-black hair that spilled down his back so he could see properly. Suddenly, the lights flickered on. Brightness charged the room, exposing everything.

_Even our lies, _the first man gulped nervously.

"Long time no see, boys," Orochimaru smirked, his golden eyes flashing.

The leaner of the two decided to take the lead, for he expected his partner to collapse onto his knees and tearfully beg for forgiveness any moment, "We are glad to see that you have arrived safely, my Lord."

Orochimaru hummed uncaringly, his hands exploring the expanse of his new desk, picking up and examining random artifacts.

"Yes, yes, it _was _a troublesome flight. My personal pilot is such an idiot; I told him to quit bouncing the plane around. He just wouldn't listen." He sighed to himself, "What a pity." Long, pale fingers laced together to rest beneath his chin. "Anyways, I've been hoping that after this disappearance you two would have some information to offer me by now."

Silence.

"Y-yes, my Lord—of course. Well, we've been following her, just like you asked," He threw in quickly, trying his best to stay in Orochimaru's good graces, "and just as you suspected, she does make contact with one of Danzo's filthy dogs. However she doesn't seem, err, very suspicious, my Lord. You see; it doesn't appear to me—us, ahem—that she is aware of Danzo and his motives."

"Are you trying to tell me that this girl is ignorant?"

"That's right, my Lord. Although she seems to have many connections..."

"Is that so?" Orochimaru raised a dark eyebrow.

"Yes, she's friends with an Uchiha."

Both eyebrows were now on the brink of being lost in his hairline, and a wicked smirk stretched along his face.

"As well as Minato's son." That wiped the smug look right off his face.

Juugo spoke up for the first time, "The youngest one."

33B

Kisame and Itachi had gotten down from the car, the awkward conversation over and behind them. Upon entering the Mickey-Mouse Clubhouse, they found everyone lounging in the sitting room, Deidara and Hidan were playing on the Xbox 360. They were too lazy to use the Kinect, so they were smashing buttons on the controllers. To the right of the TV room sat Sasori and Kakuzu, discussing something over a stack of papers.

"Okay, so I've looked over our tickets, and I just noticed something," Sasori began, catching everyone's attention. "There are seven of us, and only six consecutive seats in a row on the plane."

"…So, someone's gonna end up sitting alone, yeah?"

"Exactly," The redhead sighed, awaiting some kind of argument over his next words, "but the last ticket; it's not just a row ahead or behind. The last ticket is next to the bathroom stalls."

"WHAT. NO. UM, LIKE, _NOT IT _BITCHES."

Silence.

Blink.

"Why's everyone staring at Tobi like that? You're making Tobi shy!"

"U-umm, ahem, anyways," Kisame tried to break the ice, despite him also being absolutely freaked out over the completely unexpected—and not to mention absurd—event, "So, I guess that marks Tobi out."

Tobi began to jump around wildly, swinging his arms over his head like a chopper, resulting in the crashing of many objects to the floor—including himself. Ignoring the moron, everyone else began to discuss [read: yell and threaten to chop each other's balls off and feed them to their mother] who would end up the not-so lucky owner of the ticket to seat 32B.

"I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD, YEAH, IF YOU EVEN THINK ABOUT HANDING ME THAT FUCKED UP PAPER FROM HELL I'LL—"

"YOU AIN'T GOT NOTHIN ON ME YOU PANSY! WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?! WHY, I OUGHTTA—"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU DICKLESS ASSHOLES, THAT FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT OBVIOUSLY HAS THE FAGGOT'S NAME ON IT—"

"EXCUSE ME, HIDAN? MAY I REMIND YOU THAT THIS _**FAGGOT **_WAS THE ONLY PERSON THAT HELPED BAIL YOUR SORRY ASS OUT OF JAIL LAST SUMMER—"

"OH SHUT UP SASORI, YEAH, YOU'VE BEEN HOLDING THAT AGAINST HIM EVEN AFTER HE GAVE YOU BACK THE MONEY AND FRANKLY WE'RE SICK OF YOU USING THE SAME SHIT AGAIN AND AGAIN—"

"YEAH, I AGREE, YOU'VE BEEN USING THAT AGAINST THE POOR GUY FOR TOO LONG—"

"POOR GUY? PFFFT. SERIOUSLY, KISAME?"

"ZIP YOUR FUCKING PUSSY, STITCH-FACE—"

"HIDAN ISN'T EVEN THANKFUL FOR YOU TWO STANDING UP FOR HIM. THAT'S WHO YOU WANT SITTING NEXT TO YOU ON THE PLANE? I MEAN—"

"THAT DOESN'T EVEN CONCERN YOU, YOU DIP-STICK—"

"**Silence**."

…And exactly that happened. Everyone turned to stare at Itachi, the stress lines menacingly dark and his eyes even more so. After he felt satisfied with the peace and quiet, he spoke again.

"Despite you all being as dim-witted as humanly possible, I'm sure (LIELIELIELIE) that you can all be mature men—if only for an instance—until we can _calmly _assess the situation."

Not a single soul dared to object.

Itachi inwardly purred in pleasure. POWER. _Yum._

33B

Don't forget to put what you think the title should be! lessthanthree


	7. this is what desperation looks like

I'm an arsehole, I know. In fact, I'm _worse_ than any old arsehole; I'm comparable to the arsehole of that monkey we all see at the zoo with a rump larger than its own head. Yeah, that's about right. Personally, I **hate** it when authors update chapters that, well, aren't chapters, but this is super important to me. I thought I'd never put my awesome fans through the horror of a stupid A/N, yet here we are.

I guess I'll get to the point, then. Well, several months ago I read this awesome story. Aaaaand I forgot what it was called because apparently I didn't favorite it. I posted something on the Forum of lost stories and whatnot but one look told me everything I needed to know; it was never going to be answered. Barely any of the forums had gotten replies. So I've decided that I'm going to exploit you, my little minions who I'm sure hate me. Below is my description of the story I can't find, and whoever finds it for me gets one wish from me. And that includes a new chapter for OOFAS: R within, say, the next month.

*I remember it was only around five or six chapters and the title or summary had something to do with dreams or wishes. In the story, Ino and Sakura are twin sisters whose brothers are delinquents that ran from home. Their parents were polar opposites (but overwhelmingly rich) so the two daughters are very different: Ino took after her mother and was interested in things like dance whilst Sakura shared her father's admiration for martial arts. The two girls weren't good friends and actually live on two different sides of the house, barely interacting. Even in school where Ino is popular and Sakura is the loser with only Neji and Rin as her friends, no one knows that they're even related.

Anyways, the girls learn from a cop that their parents are now dead. Not wanting to be sent to an orphanage, the sisters decide to call their brothers to come and live with them since they're old enough to be legal guardians. At first they don't get along, and Sasori and Deidara bring the rest of the gang over a lot so the girls steer clear of them. However they slowly get that family love again. That's where I remember it ending.

Please, please help me find this story. And it was first published quite some time ago...hadn't been updated in a long time, too. So, we're looking for a pretty old story.

**Don't forget! **Find the story and I'm yours. Well, at least my writing is.  
>Once again, I'm so, so, so, so, <strong><em>so<em> **sorry for abusing you amazing people like this. lessthanthree

33B


End file.
